He was trading sex for her cooperation—with Arianna’s family, with the spell to break Mace’s hold on her, and with everything that was going down in the next hour. He had to leave Circe more than satisfied to get the things he needed. His chest was still heaving from the run over to Morgan Media, but that wasn’t what cinched it tight: it was the idea of fucking a witch to save the woman he loved. A woman who had just strengthened him to the core with her submission, giving herself completely to him. It wasn’t the fact that the witch could kill him with a touch of her dark-magic fingers—it was breaking his heart that Arianna might find out. If not now, if not right away… eventually. He prayed she would forgive him for all of it. He swallowed down the sourness in the back of his throat and tried to picture Circe as just another hookup at the club. Sex with her didn’t mean anything. He’d get it up, get it done, and get out.
